


"It is a mistake to think you can solve any major problems just with potatoes.”

by notjustmom



Series: Towel Day 2018 [38]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Douglas Adams, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, F/M, M/M, Towel Day 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 01:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15109283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: of course, we couldn't let the Christine case slide...





	1. Chapter 1

"Da?" 

"Hmmmphh?" Sherlock blinked at Rosie, Roz - still trying to get used to the new name. Roz. Roz was shaking his shoulder, not panicked, but definitely wanting his attention. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Ah, right. He had fallen asleep on the couch. "Roz. What is it?"

"Her."

"Her, who?"

"In your chair, Da."

Sherlock looked over at his chair, and there was indeed a woman sitting in his chair. She looked a bit like Molly, but wasn't. She didn't appear to be alien, in fact, she seemed to be very human. She was studying him in a way that no one had studied him before, bright, intelligent, grey, no, light blue, eyes looked him over and after a few minutes, she shook her head.

"Not Stephen. There is a similarity, yes, but not him."

"No. Not him. You are Christine Palmer."

"Last I checked, yes. I assume, though I always try not to do that, it usually ends badly, but, you are Sherlock Holmes?"

"I am. This is -"

"Roz. Yes, we met earlier. I was on my way to work last week, and then I wasn't, and when I came to, I guess that's the best way to explain it, I was sitting in this chair, I think I disturbed your little one's nap." She managed to grin at him and Sherlock understood why she was important to Stephen. She was his light, as John was his. "You aren't surprised to see me."

"No. I'm learning to expect, or rather not to expect anything and just to accept what happens these days."

Somehow she nodded as if she understood, but said nothing more.

"Are you hungry?" Sherlock asked suddenly. As if eggs and chips could fix anything. All he knew was that it was tea time and he could hear Roz's stomach growl and even he was hungry for once. "I know you're American, but it is about tea time, and I was thinking eggs and chips, and some toast with jam?"

"Sounds good." She frowned a bit. "Then my name means something to you. I mean, you know why I am here?"

"I do. You know I'm a detective."

"Yes." She uncurled from his chair and stretched, then slowly got to her feet. "Sorry - I was on my way to work, and I had overslept, scrubs were the easiest thing to throw on. I don't even know why I just told you that. Is this how you get your suspects to confess, just let them talk their way into a confession?"

Sherlock switched on the kettle and laughed. "Sometimes. Depends on the suspect. I'm not usually the chef here, but I can manage over easy, though they could easily turn into scrambled. I do make good chips, though, right Roz?"

"The best, and he's brilliant at toast." Roz smiled at Christine and walked over to take the surgeon's hand, then helped her walk into the kitchen.

"Hard to mess up toast." Sherlock snorted.

"Stephen couldn't make toast to save his life," Christine muttered, as she settled into a kitchen chair. "He'd put it in the toaster, and then get distracted -"

"But, he's a magician!" Roz said, confused for once as she sat down at her drawing table and began to colour in one of her books.

Christine's face changed for a just a moment, then she cleared her voice. "He was - is - I'm still not sure, who or what he is now, but when I first knew him, he was all too human."

"Still is," Sherlock sighed, as he got out a skillet, and opened the fridge to search for the eggs. "Damn. Chips first. Right." He pulled out a few potatoes from the new bag John had bought just yesterday, washed them, and got out a knife, preparing to slice them up into chips.

"You've seen him, then?" Christine asked quietly, and something in her voice made Sherlock put down the knife and look over at her.

"He was the first. A week ago. He was the least odd of them, to be honest." 

"Them?"

"You'll probably meet them before too long, depending how long you are here. We seem to be, or rather Baker Street seems to be a portal to somewhere, or somewhen else. I always suspected -" He picked up the knife again and began cutting the potatoes into chips. "Anyway, he came here to hire me to find you. He was here for a couple of days, we had some interesting conversations -"

"I bet." Christine snorted. "He did always love the sound of his own voice. Sorry - how was he?"

"Looked like he'd been through the wars, but all he was worried about was finding you."

"Did he -" She looked over at Roz, but the little girl had lost interest in their conversation and was busy working on her colouring. "We, I never was quite sure what we were. If Stephen had friends, I guess I would have been his closest one, and at one time - you know his story?"

Sherlock nodded as he added oil to the chip pan and turned on the stove. "My partner, John Watson had met him, and you, from what I understand at a conference, when it was held in Chicago. John said he was a brilliant neurosurgeon who was in a car accident, lost the use of his hands?"

"John. Yes, I do remember him. I liked him. I think Stephen got a bit jealous, until he understood I wasn't John's type. That was before you met him?"

"No - it was when I was away on business. John didn't practice any more, but he still received invitations to things - long story."

Christine nodded, and steered the conversation back to Stephen, understanding she had trespassed into something too private. "Stephen nearly - he should have died. But he managed to survive, except his hands, his beautiful hands." She stopped, suddenly overcome by the memories of his pain and anger at becoming, "useless. He thought he was useless without his hands. He tried every treatment, even experimental trials that had he been thinking rationally, he never would have attempted, it nearly broke him, it did break him. Finally he just vanished, no, not really vanished, people don't vanish, but he had taken the money he had left and ended up going to Nepal - when he returned, it was because he - he was nearly dead again - he'd been stabbed through - he shouldn't have survived." She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memory, she had never been quite sure it was a real memory, but then he had come back later with the woman in yellow, she, they, hadn't been able to save her, and she had been important to Stephen, but she was too far gone. "Sorry, I haven't - thought I -." She felt strong, gentle fingers wipe her tears away, then cradle her face gingerly. She took a shuddering breath in and opened her eyes again. "Stephen?"

"Christine."

"Is it really you?"

Stephen leaned down and kissed her forehead, then helped her from the chair and pulled her into his arms. "Yes, it's really me. You have no idea how very happy I am to see you."


	2. Chapter 2

"Stephen!" Roz looked up when she heard his voice and ran over to him, then stopped short. Grown ups, she sighed to herself and waited until he turned his gaze on her.

"Little one." He knelt down and opened his arms to her and she nearly tackled him to the floor. "How is everyone?"

"Good. Tony and someone named Pepper and Peter were all here, but they're not now, you know he's really Spider-Man?" He nodded thoughtfully, then picked her up in his arms and turned toward Sherlock.

"They were here, then." He paused, and was about to ask a question, but the look on Sherlock's face stopped him.

Sherlock added the chips carefully to the hot oil and nodded. "I'm afraid, I may have helped him to a decision - they went back to the States. I'm not sure if that's what was supposed to happen, but I think it wouldn't have mattered what I said to him. He was done. Peter, on the other hand, except for a bit of PTSD, he'll be - I don't know how it works - you all have pagers or something? He's not finished yet. Tony knows it too, he'll try to stop him, but he's seventeen, and Tony understands better than most, I think."

Stephen kissed Roz's forehead and seated her next to Christine, then laid his hand over Christine's. "After tea, I have something I need to ask you." He shook his head and smiled at her. "No, not yet, eat first, then we should rest. The chips are worth the trip." He looked at her closely for a moment before asking, "I didn't burn the toast that often, did I?"

"Nearly every single time." Christine grinned up at him, and tried not to stare. She could see that he was so much more than the last time she had seen him, and yet, that part of him, that very human, vulnerable part that she'd never thought she'd ever see, was there in his eyes. She could read the question he wanted to ask her in his face and he knew the moment she came to a decision. He squeezed her hand gently, kissed her cheek, then went over to make the tea.

"Tea? You make tea, now?" She laughed as he dropped two teabags in the biggest teapot she had ever seen and then added the water. 

"I was always a quick study, Christine." He winked at her, then asked Sherlock, "you have any of those ginger biscuits left?"

"In the cupboard." Sherlock glanced up to see Christine's eyes, watching his friend, and realised Stephen had been forgiven. Whatever it was he had said or done to her in the past, Sherlock knew wherever, whenever Stephen would go after leaving Baker Street again, Christine would be by his side, even if she wasn't quite aware of that fact yet. Stephen got out a plate and dumped out half a box of the biscuits on to it, placed the plate on the table and winked at Roz.

"Roz, I know you must have a story or two? Let's go colour and you can tell me all about it."

"You have time?"

"Of course." He picked her up from the chair and held her against his hip. The cloak lifted from his shoulders and Christine blinked at it for a moment, and could have sworn it let out a sigh, as it floated over to Roz's drawing table and dusted off Stephen's chair before allowing him to ease down into it, then hovered nearby.

"Did -" Christine mumbled at Sherlock.

"Yup. It's odd the first couple of times, but then you get used to it."

"Does -"

"Her name is Mina, short for Wilhelmina."

"He named her."

"I don't think he named her, I think he just knew it after a while -"

"And he -" She picked up the mug of tea that Sherlock had set in front of her, and took a sip. "How did you know how I take my tea?"

"You were usually the focus of our more interesting conversations." Sherlock winked at her then began to take the chips carefully out of the oil.

"Oh god." She put her mug down and buried her face in her hands. 

"He only told me about your best qualities, I swear. I think he was relieved to be able to finally talk to someone about you, someone who would get it."

She lowered her hands, but couldn't quite meet his eyes. "Get what?"

"How much he regrets having to leave you the way he did, and how much he loves you."

She shook her head. "No."

"You aren't a moron, Dr. Palmer. You know people are capable of great change, given the correct circumstances. You've seen it happen, and you know, deep down, whatever changed Stephen, made him not only someone who is capable of, well, not only what he is capable of, but also into someone capable of loving someone more than he loves himself. You've already seen it. Would the man you knew before sit with a three year old and listen as he is doing right now? Would he have the patience, spare the time for her, back then? Don't let the chips get too cold. Damn. I should have started the eggs already."

Christine didn't answer him, but watched as Roz related all that had happened in the last few days, and saw how Stephen's focus never shifted from the little girl's face, never once turning back to look at her, but he would ask her questions and nod knowingly, then pick up a crayon and offer it to her when it was requested. She sighed to herself as Roz patted his cheek and said quietly, "thank you, Stephen. You should get some of Da's chips before they get too cold."

"Right. I'll be back in a minute, Roz." He stood slowly as if tired - no, not stood, exactly, Christine noticed, he more or less levitated from his chair and then was standing there in front of her, offering her a chip. "Sorry, I forgot, you aren't used to me, yet." There was hope in his eyes as she took the chip from his fingers and shoved it into her mouth, then she closed her eyes and let out a moan as she chewed.

"Ohhhh."

"See, told you."

"Definitely worth the trip."

"Yeah?" Stephen raised an eyebrow at her and grinned. She snorted, then picked up a chip, and offered it to him. He took it from her, then leaned in closer, but stopped and turned the slightest bit to glance over at Roz, who rolled her eyes at him.

"Go ahead. You know how people are 'round here, always kissing. I don't mind, it just means people like other people is all."

"Right, Roz. She's right, you know. I do like you an awful lot, Dr. Palmer."

"Oh, do you now?"

He nodded and bit his lip, still uncertain, then relaxed as she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him into the briefest and sweetest of kisses. "Toast. I hear you make toast now?" She smiled at him and Roz laughed at the blush that brightened his normally pale features.

"I do. Just stay right there? You won't go anywhere, will you?"

"Nope, not moving from this spot. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to find a good name for the cloak, so I did a search for a name that meant 'Protector' and found Wilhelmina, which means 'Resolute Protector' in Dutch and German, at least according to the baby name website I used.  
> http://www.meaning-of-names.com/search/index.asp?nm=protector&stype=1&min=8&gndr=2


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enter John... he was in the bedroom sleeping, while Sherlock was napping on the couch just in case more visitors showed up, but he woke up when he smelled the chips...

"Christine? Stephen. Good to have you back." John yawned as he walked into the kitchen, grabbed his mug, poured himself some tea, added the necessary milk and managed to kiss Sherlock's offered cheek as the over easy eggs were indeed becoming scrambled. He drank half his tea before he thought to wonder when it was exactly that Christine had arrived. "When -"

"Earlier this morning, Papa," Roz mumbled without looking away from her plate of chips. "It's okay, Da, I like scrambled better. They're not so -"

" - messy." Christine finished as she held up her plate for Sherlock to scoop some eggs onto. "I don't like egg yolk on my chips."

"Me either," Roz grinned up at her and decided that Christine was okay. Especially since Stephen liked her. It was too bad Aunt Molly and Uncle Greg weren't around, they were on what they called a honeydew or something. No. Not honeydew... honey, honey - honeymoon! Christine and Molly would get along great. Maybe another time. "Ta, Da."

John popped a chip into his mouth and chewed happily. "Great as always, love." He grinned at Sherlock, then finished his tea. "So. I was just curious, Stephen, are you any clearer about what is going on, and why we seem to be a boarding house for - whatever it is? You two are welcome to stay as long as you want, of course -"

"Your flat seems to be in the center of one of the few stable parallel universes."

"Universes?" Sherlock looked up from the eggs that were nearly over cooked, and John knew he'd have to take over the cooking duties. He knew from past experience that talking to his better half wouldn't work, so he took the serving spoon out of his hand, turned the burner off, and moved the pan away from the heat. Sherlock blinked then, and whispered, "as in more than one universe?"

"In one universe most of us didn't, uhm, well, make it, and that seems to have created a bit of uhm..."

"Chaos?" John suggested quietly.

"Good word. Kind of like chaos, but worse in a lot of the other, well, dimensions might be a better word. It seems some us ended up here, Peter, woke up back in New York City and others stayed in Wakanda. I'm not exactly sure what is supposed to happen now, but the fact that Christine showed up here, and I was allowed to come back for her - it means something."

Christine laid her fork down on her plate, and looked over at him. "I'm supposed to go with you. I know it, I knew it when I saw you standing there. It means you aren't meant to do this on your own, Stephen. Yes, I know you have Mina and Wong, and your students, but you were never meant to try to do this without me."

"Christine. You don't know -"

She got up from the table and moved to stand in front of him."No. I do. I saw - whatever that other place was, the place where you no longer exist. I was meant - I know, god, it sounds crazy to me, too. You know I am one of the most rational people you've ever met, Stephen, but I know what I saw, when I had to start your heart again, and then when you had to leave me, I knew, Stephen, but you weren't ready - you didn't need me then. Need is the wrong word - but you know that I'm right, I saw it in your eyes when you walked through that portal. Thing is, and it sounds so not, me, I guess? My life without you, without the person I knew you were becoming, has been lacking in -" She laid a hand over his heart and the room stilled, for just a moment.

"Heart?" Stephen placed both of his hands over hers, and smiled down at her.

"I was thinking more sass, actually. But, yes, heart, Stephen. My heart always belonged to you, even when you were struggling so hard against everything, especially me, and after you left to become who you are now. I never stopped loving you, and my place is with you, wherever, whenever that happens to be."

"They're gonna kiss again, aren't they Da?"

"Yes, Roz."

"I could tell cuz their faces got all soft and their voices got smushy."

"Yes, excellent observations, Roz. Finish your chips, sweetheart."

"Yes, Da."

 

(Of course, she was right, as usual.)


End file.
